Of Shovels
by flashwitch
Summary: Natasha thinks they're using each other. Bruce keeps waking up alone. Obviously this is a job for Clint Barton, Romance Detective and his faithful sidekick, Coulson. Much angstier than the summary makes it sound. Side story in the OCD verse. Knowledge of OCD verse not totally necessary.


**This is a side story in the OCD verse. It's set between New Routine and Break from Routine. Knowledge of that verse is not strictly necessary, but it may make some things make more sense. Natasha/Bruce. **

* * *

Natasha woke up. She was lying with Bruce in his bed. His hand was splayed against her stomach, and he was smiling in his sleep.

She pulled away and left before he could wake up.

She didn't know what she was doing. Bruce was a good man. Kind. Loving. Broken. She could so easily fall for him, if she believed in love. But she didn't. She just needed a release. Used to be, her and Clint would roll around together, fighting and fucking until they felt human again. But that had stopped when Clint and Phil had gotten serious. She'd been forced to work out her tensions elsewhere. And there was nothing wrong with that. She was happy to find bar fights and pick up guys for one night stands. But now? Now she was 'Black Widow', capital B, capital W. People saw her as a role model, or a conquest. She couldn't just find a good time. It was too complicated.

But she shouldn't be doing this to Bruce. It wasn't fair.

On the other hand, she had the impression that he was using her too. At first, he'd approached her as a friend to try and stop her from being afraid of him. They'd started tentatively enough, with coffee and meditation. Then it shifted. Bruce and Natasha were both excellent listeners, and they both needed someone to listen.

Bruce told her about Betty, how he loved her so much. How he missed her. How her father was trying to hurt him. She felt for him, she really did. She honestly thought he was coping remarkably well with his anger issues. She knew people under a lot less stress than he was who snapped all the time.

A few weeks later, after a battle, they'd discussed methods of stress relief. He was already teaching her to meditate, and she offered to spar with him. She'd made a joke, the sort of joke she usually only made with Barton, that there was always sex if that didn't work.

He hadn't laughed.

He'd just explained that he was unable to have sex.

She'd stared at him.

"My blood pressure and heart beat go up. I..."

"Oh. The Other Guy shows up?" And wasn't that a terrifying thought. She was still afraid of that, actually. But she'd been scared of heights when she was a little girl and they'd cured her by dangling her off the edge of the building. It had worked, and she'd been facing her fears in a ridiculous and over the top manner ever since.

"Yeah."

"So even if Betty were here..."

"Yeah."

"That's not good."

"No."

She thinks about it for days. About how tense you would be if you couldn't ever... you know. About how sad it would be never to have fun, messy, silly, intense, loving, rough, wonderful sex. Bruce was good looking too, in a 'doesn't know he's hot' sort of a way. And she knew he had a great body under his clothes. Plus he was a genuinely good guy. She felt bad for him.

"I was thinking. About what you said the other day."

"Hmm?"

"The sex thing," she says blatantly. "I thought I could help you with that."

He drew in a sharp breath and his hands clenched.

"Excuse me?"

"You're a genius. I'm sure you could figure out a drug to keep your blood pressure and heart beat down. Or maybe you could try a sort of sexual meditation."

"Sexual meditation?" He was smiling faintly, so she took that as a win.

"You don't change when your mind is in a different state. There are ways of altering your mental state that have to do with sex." She raised an eyebrow, and he flushed slightly. "I'm not afraid of your other half. If you do change, there are protocols here to protect me."

"Are you... You're serious."

"Yes, I am."

"No."

"Okay. Think about it. Let me know."

"I already let you know. I said no."

"Okay." She leaned in to ruffle his hair and then sauntered away, her hips swaying.

"Natasha, no! I said no!" he shouted after her and she laughed, low and sensual.

It was an experiment to him. Nothing more. She knew this. And that was what she wanted, after all.

Then why was there a feeling in the pit of her stomach, like something had gone terribly wrong?

* * *

When Bruce woke up, he was alone in the bed. It wasn't the first time it had happened since he'd started sleeping with Natasha. In fact, it was pretty much the norm. At first he thought she was disappointed. They'd been...experimenting... for seven weeks now. And he was still no closer to actually having sex with her. But he'd tried to please her. He'd used his hands and his mouth on her. He'd made sure that her 'tension' was relieved, even if his wasn't.

But she kept on leaving. He wondered what he was doing wrong. Or maybe this was all she wanted. Just this.

She'd made it pretty clear from the beginning that this was an experiment. That they were just giving each other a hand, scratching an itch. And he was fine with that. Really, he was. He had Betty. He loved Betty.

_Betty,_ a voice rumbled at the back of his head, followed by a wave of... something. Bruce couldn't place the feeling. It wasn't the usual wave of love/loss/anger that came with her name. It was something sadder and angrier and more mixed up. He frowned.

Betty was the love of his life. The one woman he'd give everything for. The one woman who would love a monster like him. Natasha had gotten good at hiding it, but he knew she was afraid of him. Betty was never scared of him. Betty never looked at him like he was a time bomb. Betty loved him.

Natasha was a friend. A really good friend. And he appreciated her, he really did, but he could never have a relationship with her. It wouldn't be fair to her. And he didn't want to lose one of the few friendships he had. Besides, it wasn't safe. Relationships with him... not a good idea.

She was beautiful, he wasn't denying that. And she was kind. Helping him with his flaws. But she was ruthless. In some ways she reminded him of a carefully honed blade, bright and shining, yet deadly.

And even if he did feel something more than friendship for her, she wouldn't want that. "Love is for children and fools," she'd said, more than once. She only wanted to relieve some tension with him. That's all. And he wanted to be able to do this. To make love with someone. To feel again.

For Betty as well as for himself.

He'd talk to Natasha. Make sure she understood.

* * *

Clint sighed. He was sitting curled around Phil on the sofa.

"That's the seventeenth sigh you've given since we sat down. And I don't think it's my choice of programming."

"Not all of us enjoy _Supernanny, _you know," Clint joked, snuggling into Phil's side.

"Liar, you love it." Phil carded his hand thorough Clint's hair. "What's wrong?"

"It's Tasha."

"This thing with Bruce?"

"You know about that?" Clint sat up, pulling away a little. Phil smiled mildly.

"Of course."

"Of course, he says." Clint rolled his eyes and then leaned in to kiss the corner of Phil's mouth quickly. Just because he could. "Should I be giving Bruce the shovel talk?"

"You think he needs it?"

"I don't know. I don't know what they're doing. They're both pretending it means nothing. But it's obvious to anyone with eyes that they have feelings for each other. And I don't want him to hurt her."

"What about her hurting him?"

"She might. But she'd try not to. You know her, Phil. She's calculating in everything. That's probably why she's keeping him at a distance."

"Probably. Is it any of our business?" Phil's tone was mild, but Clint still flinched a little.

"Come on. It's Nat. She's family."

"Ah." Coulson concentrated on the television for a moment. "She gave me the shovel talk, you know."

"No. I didn't know."

"She came into my office after day or two after our first fumble. And she knew. I didn't even try to deny it. She told me that I wasn't like the two of you. That I hid my emotions just as well, but that I wasn't scared of them the way you two were. She said that if I didn't stop being careful and take a risk, I'd lose everything. I'd lose you. She said that I needed to make the first move. I was so scared, you don't know. Not of Natasha. Of telling you how I felt. It was...inappropriate. But I said I would. I had to."

"And what did she say?" Clint's voice was quiet, not wanting to break Coulson of his reverie.

"She said if I hurt you, they'd never find my body." They both smiled.

"Yeah, that sounds like her."

"We owe her. I think giving Bruce the shovel talk is the least we can do."

* * *

Clint went through the vents to Bruce's quarters. They had decided that Clint could have first pickings, and Phil would ambush Bruce in his lab in the morning to reinforce the message.

"Hey Doc," he said, climbing down. Bruce started noticeably, and his hands came up, clenched into fists.

"You realize it really isn't a good idea to sneak up on me?" but his voice is level and mild, probably because it took a long time for Clint (who knows what people with anger issues can do, no matter how sorry they are about it later) to become comfortable even teasing Bruce.

"Yeah. You know what else isn't a good idea? Fucking with Tasha's feelings. She's the Black Widow for fuck's sake. Do you even know what you're getting into?"

"I- What? You know about that?"

"Of course I do. One, I'm her best friend. Two, I'm not called Hawkeye for nothing. I notice things. You need to figure out what you want with her before you break her and I am forced to try and break you. Which wouldn't end well for either of us. Me, because I'd probably be dead, and you because you get even more guilt."

"Clint, my relationship with Natasha is our business."

"Yep. But she's practically my sister. We've known each other for years, and we always have each other's backs. This is what you do for a friend."

"I don't even know what I feel."

"Then you'd better figure it out fast. Because she doesn't trust people. At all. But for some reason she trusts you, so you can't just shit all over that."

"What do you mean? How do you know she trusts me?"

"She sleeps in front of you. Me and Phil, sure. In medical, if they get enough drugs into her. But nowhere else. You're one of the lucky few."

"I..." She'd been sleeping, just sleeping, with him for weeks. They'd try a control technique, try some touching, some kissing, and then he'd have to stop and they'd fall asleep together. She was always gone in the morning. "I didn't realize."

"I know. Just... be careful. If you care about her at all, you need to be clear about what this is."

"I'll be careful."

"Good." Clint pointed to his eyes, then to Bruce, then back to his eyes. Then he turned around and climbed back into the air vent.

"You know I have a door, right?" Bruce called after him.

* * *

Bruce spent all night trying to figure out exactly where he stood in relation to Natasha. He didn't think about fairness or right and wrong, he just thought about his feelings.

He was surprised at what he found. The best moments he'd had since he'd arrived at the Tower were spent either with Tony (doing science) or with Tasha. He liked making her smile. He liked the way she relaxed around him. He liked the way her hair smelled. He tried to think of Betty, of the love he felt for her. He couldn't think of the colour of her eyes, Tasha's superimposed them. He couldn't think of the sound of her voice, the touch of her hand. He loved her, he did. But he wasn't sure if he'd ever been _in love _with her. What he felt for Natasha was completely different. It was softer and more passionate and all consuming. He wasn't sure what to call it, or what to do with it, but he knew it was something special.

He was going to have that talk with her, and he was going to tell her... what? What should he say?

The new day dawned early and Bruce went through to the kitchen. It was his day to cook breakfast. he wasn't surprised to see Coulson sitting at the breakfast bar already. Since Coulson had returned to them, he was almost always present in the kitchen when cooking was being done. Bruce like to think that it was Coulson's way of keeping in touch with them all, and letting them know he was there. It also meant that the others, the ones who couldn't cook (Tasha, Thor and Tony... maybe cooking abilities have something to do with the letter 'T'... boy, Bruce was tired), spent more time in the kitchen than they ever had before. It was... nice.

"If you hurt her, I will kill you," Phil said, cordial as anything as he whipped the pancake batter.

"I already got this talk from Clint."

"I know."

"Oh."

"Do you love her?"

"I think I might. But I'm not sure if she wants me to."

"Talk to her. You might be surprised." Coulson handed over the bowl and took a sip of his coffee. "As long as we understand each other." He gave Bruce a level look.

When Clint had given him the talk, Bruce had thought it was sweet. He'd been kind of amused. But Coulson... that look... Bruce thought for a moment that Coulson would actually try and kill him if he hurt Natasha. And for that brief moment, he completely believed Phil would succeed.

Part of him, the small, sad part, wanted Coulson to try. But the rest of him reminded that part that they finally had something to live for.

* * *

Then Natasha walked in. She was wearing the oversize grey t shirt and pyjama pants she slept in and her hair was a mess. He couldn't help but smile at her. She smiled back, tired and unguarded. Then she noticed Phil and froze. She looked from him to Bruce and back and shook her head. It was clear she knew exactly what had happened and didn't approve.

"If you'll excuse me..." Phil said, draining his coffee and putting the empty mug in the sink. "I would appreciate a call back when the pancakes are ready though."

"Of course."

"Barton."

"Yes, sir." Came from the vents.

Then, Bruce was alone with Natasha.

"They give you the shovel talk?" she asked as she poured herself a glass of orange juice and avoided eye contact.

"Shovel talk?"

"The talk one gets when starting a new relationship. 'If you hurt them, then you and I will be taking a long walk into the woods with a shotgun and a shovel'. That talk."

"Then yes. I got it from Clint last night as well." He busied himself with flipping the pancakes.

"I'm sorry they did that. I know that this isn't anything... that we aren't in love."

"Aren't we? I don't know."

"This is what I was afraid of." She sighed. "Look, I like sex. I like having sex with you. I don't need some romantic connection to have fun."

"But are we just having fun? You sleep in front of me Tasha. We spend hours reading together on the couch or sparring or just hanging out. If I actually stop and think about it, then I don't know how we haven't realised that we're in a relationship."

She flinched.

"No. You love Betty."

"I don't know what I feel for Betty. I thought I loved her for a very long time. But, I just don't know."

"No. We aren't doing this."

"Why not?"

"Because..." She hesitated, and flipped a knife between her fingers. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but he knew it was as close to an admission of nerves as he was going to get.

"Because?" he prompted.

"Because I like you, okay? And I trust you. That doesn't come easy to me."

"Me either."

"You say that," she shook her head. "But it's not true. It should be true. You should be scared, you should be hiding, but you trust everyone! You see the good; I can only see the bad. You trusted _Stark_ the day you met him!"

"So, we take it slow." He shrugged, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"We're already taking it pretty slow. Two months and we haven't even had real sex yet," she said dryly.

"Is that what this is about?"

"What? No!"

"Then what's the problem? We take things slowly, emotionally. We can just carry on as we are for now. But I wanted us to be clear as to what's happening. I don't want to hurt you."

Silence, except for the spitting of the pan, and she stared at him, wide eyed. As if no one had ever said that to her before.

"The pancakes are going to burn," she said, and her voice was level.

"Let them." He grabbed her and crushed her to him, their mouths meeting. They kept kissing, and touching and laughing until the fire alarm went off, the acrid smoke from the burnt pancakes filling the kitchen.

* * *

Coulson didn't eat breakfast that morning.

* * *

So, they took it slow. Careful. They both had experience with that. Bruce was very aware of how vulnerable Natasha really was, a thought that wouldn't have occurred to him a week ago, and Natasha was very aware that if she did something wrong, Bruce's less sunny half would show up.

They didn't say they were in love.

* * *

**Just something short and sweet to tide you over till the next section. It's also necessary, because Bruce/Natasha as a couple, while it's been hinted at in the earlier stories, may be more prominent in the next instalment. **


End file.
